Daisy ran a circle around his legs, then set a course for the barn. Gerrit grunted. Rae must be in there. When he saw her Monday at Community Hope, she’d hardly said two words to him the whole time, and yesterday wasn’t any different. Morgan told Gerrit about all the famous songwriters he knew of until he was blue in the face, while across the room Rae had looked like she had a Supra Sulfa calf bolus the size of his thumb stuck in her throat.
He poked his head in the barn and squinted in the gloom. He had moved one of the deck chairs into the barn for Rae to use, and there she sat now, her raggedy cat in her lap.
“Why don’t you turn on the light?”
She didn’t look up. “Oh. Sorry. I forgot.”
He pushed the door open all the way. “You forgot?”
For a minute, he stared at Rae’s face. Only, it looked a lot like Evi’s. He’d seen that look on his daughter a thousand times but never understood it. Never asked about it, afraid she’d bite his head off if he tried. Ignoring it had seemed like a safer strategy at the time.
He needed to call her again. Memorial Day weekend was just three weeks and two days away.
Daisy sniffed at Rae’s sleeve as if she had a dog treat hidden up there.
Rae didn’t try to push her away. “She smells the puppies.” Her voice was quiet and lifeless.
“What puppies?”
“Kylee’s stepdad’s dog had puppies, and I went to see them.”
“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Why would she be upset about puppies? “Okaaay.”
Daisy satisfied her curiosity and then curled up at Rae’s feet, resting her head on her paws. Rae hardly noticed. She just kind of sat there, slouching. The whole scene was rather pathetic.
“What’s your problem?” He gulped. That hadn’t come out right. “I mean, is everything okay? You look disturbed.”
That wasn’t much better. Rae scowled, and his shoulders tensed. No wonder he’d never tried this with Evi.
Rae wouldn’t look at him. “I’m fine.”
He wouldn’t have guessed that, but what did he know? Maybe girls looked like this sometimes. About once a month or so. But she didn’t sound fine. She sounded like she wanted to be left alone.
He rocked on his feet and knocked a fist against the wooden door twice. “All right, well, I’ll be in the house if you need anything.”
Her head snapped up. He froze like a deer in the headlights. The light in the barn was dusky, yet he could still see that her eyes were suspiciously damp.
“That’s it?”
He stammered. “Wh-what are you talking about?”
She wiped a sleeve across her face. “When someone says they’re fine, but they’re obviously not fine, you say something like ‘No you’re not.’ Or ‘Do you want to talk about it?’”
He took a step back. It made no sense. If she wanted to talk about it, why would she say she was fine? And how would he know if she was or not? If she was and he said she wasn’t, wouldn’t that make her mad?
She sighed. “My grandpa always used to say, ‘If you’re fine, then I’m a monkey’s uncle.’”
He fought the urge to flee. This girl’s problems were none of his business, and he was not her grandpa. It’s not like he was going to talk to her about his problems. But she looked at him expectantly.
“Um . . .” His throat went dry, his mind blank. Then Evi’s face popped back into his head, and he forced the words out, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Rae sniffled. “No.” Her voice was high and strained.
Of all the most ridiculous, nonsensical, childish—
She burst into tears.
Oh, this was bad. He held a hand out as if to pat her back, but he was too far away. What should he do? Maybe he should run away. Her sobbing intensified, and his stomach lurched.
If there was a God, if He cared about Gerrit at all, as Luke had always claimed, He would do something. Right now.
Gravel crunched. He spun toward the sound.
Hannie.
He let out the breath he’d been holding.
Salvation.
“NOW HE WON’T even talk to me.” Rae cried into her hands as Hannie rubbed her back gently. “And if I don’t do well on my drive tonight, Mr. Fletcher says he’s not sure he can pass me.”
Gerrit stared in wonder at the miracle unfolding. Somehow, Hannie had led Rae into the house and coaxed the whole story out of her. About her parents, The Plan, and a guy named David. Also her last day of Driver’s Ed. and something about her teacher telling her she was dangerous. Which, frankly, did not surprise him.
He hadn’t spoken a word, but he felt like he’d been through the wringer. He couldn’t remember the last time his nerves had been this shot.
Rae pressed her fists into her eyes. “What am I going to do, Mrs. Laninga?”
From what he’d heard, the answer was clear. He held up a finger and opened his mouth to offer the obvious solution, but snapped it shut again when Hannie shook her head.
“Call me Hannie. And it depends.” Her voice was low and soothing. “Do you have feelings for this boy?”
Rae sniffed and nodded.
“Then you’re going to need to decide whether you think the relationship is worth saving.” Hannie gave a reassuring smile. “And if you do, there’s some work that needs to be done.”
Gerrit’s brow furrowed. That was not even close to what he had planned to say.
“What about my parents?”
Hannie sighed and leaned closer to Rae with a twinkle in her eye. “Parents do tend to complicate things, don’t they?”
Rae sniffed again, and a smile began to form. “Yes, they do.”
“I’ll tell you what.” Hannie rose from the table and clapped her hands together. “Why don’t we all”—and at the word all she eyed Gerrit as if trying to decide whether he was included—“think the problem over while we have dinner and then come back to it. We’ll feel
